Shawn opened his eyes and stared at the wall. It was a nice wall, a good wall. A wall that had never let him down.

He sighed, hearing the radio play a Country song about… catfish noodling? Whatever that was. Shawn didn’t care for Country music. He set his alarm to a Country station because, inevitably, whatever song he woke up to more than once would be tied to memories of stress and death. He didn’t want a song he actually liked to give him PTSD every time he heard it. Country music thus became an important part of his morning routine.

Clever. Clever.

He sat up, breathing hard. Whoever the enemy was, they were insufferable. He hated them with every fiber of his being. This wasn’t some random person, out for fame and glory. It wasn’t even a group of people, out to get rich by causing destruction and mayhem. This was someone who knew them, knew his team, and was actively trying to piss him off.

Well, congratulations, they’d done it. He was angry. He was furious. They would pay for this, and then they would die.

Shawn jumped out of bed and hurriedly got dressed. He ran downstairs and poured himself a coffee, hands shaking as he added cream. Inez came down and sat at the table, but he just paced back and forth.

Nick came out, looking proud of his latest creation. He slid the plates into place, announcing breakfast was served.

Shawn pointed at Inez. “It’s frozen noodles made out of peanut butter and strawberry jam!”

She jumped, startled by his sudden yell.

Nick shared a look with her, slowly taking his seat.

Victor came down the stairs and folded into his spot next to Inez. He glanced around the table, reaching for his toast.

Shawn, his mind filled with panic-induced adrenaline, stepped over and slapped Victor’s hand. “Don’t put that in your mouth!”

“Uh…” Victor looked at him in shock, then stared at the toast like it might suddenly grow teeth and attack him.

“Why not?” Nick asked, sounding slightly offended. “What’s wrong with it?”

Shawn spun to face Emmy, who was just stepping off the stairs. “Yes, breakfast contains strawberry jam, you hate it, but once it’s gone we’ll never buy any more!”

Emmy slid into her chair, watching him like he’d gone insane.

They were all watching him. Good.

Shawn took his seat, setting his coffee cup down hard enough to make it spill. “There’s an incendiary bomb in the basement, but who cares. As far as I can tell, it’s never gone off! A bigger bomb keeps going off, one someone plants when we leave to battle a wereshark. And they’re watching the building! Last time we went to the mall instead of coming home, and the building waited politely to explode until we were inside. They painted ‘LOL’ above the couch! With teriyaki sauce! Hah!” He started laughing, and couldn’t stop. He put his face in his hands, barely able to breathe.

The rest of the table was silent. Or at any rate he couldn’t hear them.

Shawn hated his “power”. Sure, it might be a gift. It might be a blessing to be able to relive a day, to unmake mistakes. He was functionally immortal.

This was the immortality a monkey’s paw would give. Someday, due to sickness or old age, he would die. It was inevitable.

And then he would wake up, knowing he was going to die. Knowing there was no way around it. There was no escape. He’d be doomed to repeat those few hours over and over again. He’d probably eat the same food, have the same conversations, feel the same pains every day for eternity. Decades, centuries would pass, with him trapped in that loop.

The coming of that day terrified him on a deep, primal level.

But this… This day felt like it could last forever. There was no escaping it. There was no tomorrow. He was stuck.

There was no escape.

Inez grabbed his hands and pulled them down. “Shawn.”

He gave her a manic smile. “I’m gonna kill someone,” he told her.

“How many times have you been through this day?”

He looked at his coffee, wondering if it would stain the wood of the table. That would be a shame. He should clean-

“Shawn!”

“This is the fifth time,” he muttered, staring at his coffee. If he looked away from that cup the building might explode. If he just… sat here. All day. Staring at his cup. Nothing bad would happen. Right?

Inez dropped his hands. Nick spoke, Victor responded, and a conversation began.

Shawn stared at his coffee.

What could he do? What could he do? The bomb in the basement was a red herring, he knew that much. Might as well leave it there. Nick found out only two people existed with laser powers. One was working in a team in Germany, and the other was a NBA player who had a game in New York this afternoon. That meant whoever killed Emmy had a laser gun of some sort.

Laser guns existed. Their blueprints were on the internet. Anyone with enough money and dedication could make one. That route was guaranteed to be a dead end, especially considering the time constraints. Finding a list of technopaths would be much faster, but how many of them had access to the components of a laser gun? And what would a technopath have against his team? Although…

No, it couldn’t be.

“Copper,” he said.

The hushed conversation stopped.

“You mean Coper?” Emmy asked, smirking.

“No, they got another member a couple weeks ago,” Nick told her.

Victor nodded “A girl named Petra. She’s been in training. Her arrival won’t be announced until after our next battle.”

“What can she do?” Shawn asked.

“I wasn’t told,” Victor said.

“Their team isn’t really deficient in anything,” Inez said pensively. “Either she’s very special, they just wanted the name change, or they wanted an even number of male/female members.”

“Aren’t they basically broke after destroying the bridge last month?” Emmy asked. “How can they afford a new member?”

“By getting rid of the competition,” Shawn answered, his voice hollow.

The team stared at him.

Inez cleared her throat. “They wouldn’t. Over money? No.”

“They wouldn’t be that evil,” Victor agreed. “You don’t just murder five people to get money. The whole team would have to agree, and I don’t see that.”

Nick looked at Shawn, an eyebrow raised.

“It wouldn’t just be money, though,” Emmy said, examining her breakfast. “I mean, we’re better than them and everyone knows it. We do less damage, we get more sponsorships, we have better outfits… We aren’t broke.”

“Harsh, but true,” Nick said.

“I still don’t believe they could kill us,” Inez said.

“Not without proof,” Victor said.

Shawn finally picked up his toast and took a bite.

Proof…

Victor was the first person on the scene. The shark dude was in the middle of the street, trying to catch one of the fleeing pedestrians. Police were setting up roadblocks a block in every direction, helping people evacuate.

Knowing the rest of the team would be here soon, Victor shot down, landing heavily between the shark dude and a woman he’d been chasing. The woman screamed, running for the nearest roadblock. The shark dude roared, swinging a fist at Victor.

Victor ducked away. “Can you talk?” he asked. “Or do you just roar?”

The shark dude roared again, swinging both fists this time.

“Good to know,” Victor said, pushing himself into the air. He dodged another swing, setting his feet on the shark dude’s flat head.

That got the shark dude mad. He snapped and flailed, raging as the flier danced on his skull.

Victor watched his movements carefully. The swings had more weight than they should, and the volume of the snaps let him know this guy was capable of biting off a limb. But there was something off-balance with him. Victor suspected he wasn’t used to being half shark. The way the dude moved seemed like he wasn’t used to having this shape or strength.

The shark dude was starting to get bored with not hitting Victor when a pink blur ran by, catching their attention. Emmy skidded to a stop, grinning. Victor kicked the shark dude in the back of the head, knocking him to his hands and knees, and shot over to her.

“What’ve we got?” Emmy asked.

“He’s got a nasty bite, looks like super strength but I don’t think he knows how to use it,” Victor said quickly. “Or his height and weight. Should be easy to keep off-balance but stay away from the teeth.”

Emmy nodded, sliding the rope off her left arm. “Got it.”

Victor gave her a thumbs up and shot into the sky, flying back home as quickly as possible. He didn’t know what or who he’d find, and that not knowing made him nervous. Maybe he wouldn’t find anything.

It took him five or six minutes to get there. He flew around the building, peering through the windows. There wasn’t anything odd on the first floor, but on the second floor all the doors were open. No one ever left their doors open.

Victor landed on his windowsill and slid through the window. He moved quietly, flying through the building. The second floor was empty, nothing odd other than the open doors. When he got to the first floor, he spotted a post-it note on the kitchen door. He glanced around before flying over.

In a flowing cursive, the note read “BEHIND YOU”.

Like an idiot, he stared at the note instead of immediately turning around. Those few seconds gave the enemy time to cover his head with a black trash bag.

He shot up, instinct taking over. The enemy put her arms around his throat, cutting off his windpipe. His head hit the ceiling, cracking the plywood. The woman on his back flinched, avoiding a hit, but didn’t let go. If anything, she held on tighter.

So be it. He dropped like a rock, landing on top of her. Her arms briefly loosened from the impact, but when he tried scrambling to his feet her muscles went solid again. Victor fought against her, clawing at her arms as he flew up and dropped again.

But he couldn’t breathe. Even when her arms released enough to let him gasp, the bag over his head allowed him no oxygen.

Whoever this woman was, she was determined. A part of Victor’s mind tried to focus on details. The optimist in him recorded how tall she was, the length of her hair, how much muscle her arms had, so he could tell Shawn. The rest of him knew he wasn’t going to make it out of this fight alive.

His lungs started to burn. Giving up on her arms, he clawed at the bag around his mouth. Having waited too long, Victor didn’t even have the strength to tear plastic. Over the rushing of blood in his ears he heard the woman laugh.

Suddenly she let go and rolled away from him. Victor sat up and ripped the bag off his head. He gasped, trembling, unable to move.

“Honestly, this was too easy.”

Victor looked up. The woman gave him a mocking smile and shot him in the heart.